CHAP. XIII.

In peace, love tunes the shepherd's reed;

In war, he mounts the warrior's steed;

In halls, in gay attire is seen;

In hamlets, dances on the green.

Love rules the court, the camp, the grove,

And men below, and saints above,

For love is heav'n, and heav'n is love.

LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL.

Ar the end of the week this united trio set off on their journey to Scotland; Constance having first written to Jonathan, to inform him of her intention, and demand a supply of cash for her future exigencies, which she ordered him to send, with her letters, by the post, to the house of Lady Jane, which was situated about ten miles from Edinburgh, and six from the famous castle of Roslin.

Nothing material occurred during the journey, which highly gratified Constance, as every place through which they passed was quite novel to her; and, after their entrance into Scotland, formed so striking a contrast to those manners and customs she had been used to, that her curiosity was continually excited; and as to

gratify her seemed the first wish of her companions, they paused at every place of notoriety, to give her an opportunity of viewing it; a week also was spent in Edinburgh for the same purpose; Roslin Castle was taken in their way from thence; and they at length finished the journey at the house of Lady Jane, which, in compliment to her son-in-law, she had called Rouverie. The mansion was situated within a small park, well stocked with deer; it stood on a gentle eminence, and was shrouded with wood of a luxuriant growth; while a smooth stream of crystal flowed on one side of it, with a pleasing and harmonious murmur, occasionally increased by a small natural cascade, which fell into it, and, after rain, afforded a delightful and refreshing spectacle. The house itself was elegant and comfortable; it was handsomely furnished; every thing around it seemed calculated for ease, not superfluity; while every thing within appeared directed by taste, without ostentation.

Constance endeavoured, by cheerfulness and activity, by exerting herself, to amuse Lady Jane, and attending her in her rural occupations, to banish, as much as possible, all those corroding images which her past life had painfully impressed upon her memory; she endeavoured to submit, without repining, to the unfathomable dispensations of Providence: but there were moments when the form of Maningham presented itself to her view, in all its native elegance and interest; when the gentleness of his manners, the purity of his attachment, the goodness of his heart, all irresistibly spoke to the tenderness of

her's. All the vivid scenes of peace and hope, of love and joy, all the sweet visions of domestic felicity, which fancy had pictured on her youthful and ardent mind, would then arise to torment her, and she would sigh over their wreck in agony unutterable: to her far-distant Eleanor would she then write all the feelings of her full heart, and then consign these memorials of her feeble resolution to her portfolio, uncertain whether she should ever again have an opportunity of addressing her, and trembling at the idea of adding one thorn to a bosom already wounded by the sharp point of calamity.

The circle of Lady Jane was entirely confined within the limits of her own territories; she mixed little with the surrounding gentry, accident and habit having long inured her to solitude.

The pastor of the adjacent village and his two lovely daughters, the medical man who attended the family, and one or two gentlemen who resided in the vicinity, were all who had as yet approached the mansion; yet, neither Lady Jane, Constance, nor Sir Charles, had experienced any want of company; each sedulous to amuse, and each calculated to afford occupation and give interest to conversation, the time passed in an uniform and uninterrupted course of rational and improving discourse-in reading, walking, and music-and in exercising the be-nevolent propensities of the heart, in relieving the distresses of the indigent and afflicted.

But a few weeks had scarcely passed, ere Constance perceived that the interest of every

occupation to Sir Charles depended entirely upon her presence; he was always at her side, always politely assiduous to amuse her, and his air had in it that degree of tenderness and diffidence, which inseparably belongs to a real attachment; yet not one expression fell from his lips which declared the state of his heart; and delicacy forbade her appearing to suspect the interest which she felt she had attained over it: yet to foster this partiality by an apparent encouragement of it, when she knew that it was impossible she could ever return it, filled her bosom with the severest anguish, and gave a certain timidity to her conduct, which induced Sir Charles to believe that he was not quite indifferent to her; while Lady Jane, marking the behaviour of both, congratulated herself upon the prospect of happiness which thus appeared to open to the son of her affections; and, by frequently joining them together in the endearing appellation of my children, seemed to imply, obliquely, all the expectations she had formed

The assiduities of Sir Charles increased, and the consequent misery of Constance increased with them; she would have given worlds to have come to an explanation with him; but as he never made any professions towards her, this was impossible. Lady Jane, however, was not so passive; and perceiving, as she thought, an unaccountable diffidence in Sir Charles, she determined to come to the point with her protegée; and, as a previous step, sought an opportunity of conversing with her son-in-law, when she,

without farther preface, demanded his opinion of her companion.

Sir Charles put down the book he had been perusing, looked in the face of his mother-inlaw, and then said "I scarcely ever saw a woman so really calculated to attract admiration and esteem.”

Lady Jane rose from her seat-she took his hand" All my business in life," said she, "would be accomplished, could I see you once happily married. If your wishes and sentiments accord with mine, you will lose no time in false delicacy. I cannot believe that you are born to sigh in vain. Will you suffer me to break the ice for you?"

"There is a degree of sensitive apprehension in the conduct of Miss Mountstewart, which I acknowledge pains and surprises me," said Sir Charles, "and leads me to doubt that I am not secure of obtaining that interest in her affections, without which I could not be happy with her; yet, from every observation which I have been able to make upon her conduct and character, I will candidly avow, that to obtain her heart, is become the first wish of my own."

"Have you not already proved, my son," answered Lady Jane, while a starting tear fell from her eye, "the uncertainty of human life and human happiness? then, for your own sake, I conjure you, waste not the precious moments, which may never return. This young woman seems formed to feel and partake that sweet intercourse of the soul, which gives life to the most uninteresting incidents; with a heart free